Fic: Through the Winters of Your Grief
Through The Winters of Your Grief
Will skulked in the shadows, tucked between the gigantic gilt-frame of a painting that probably belonged in the Louvre and an impeccably dressed antique table. Skulking wasn’t necessary - his query was oblivious, making her easy prey - but it allowed him to stall, delaying the inevitable.
He was in no hurry to join the growing ranks of sympathetic ears that had already turned away.
Across the hall, Magnus completed another slow circuit of Ashley’s bedroom. Her fingers lightly skimmed the smooth leather of her daughter’s punching bag, in sharp contrast to the brutal blows Ashley usually rained on it, if the grunts that often leaked into the hall were anything to judge by.
Ostensibly, Magnus was packing up Ashley’s things, but according to both Henry and the big guy, she’d spent the better part of the day lost in thought. Stubborn and clinging to whatever shreds of composure she had left, Magnus had rebuffed their condolences and their offers of help. She continued to insist that she was fine and more than capable of performing her mournful task alone.
The others’ concern had peaked mid-afternoon. They’d cornered Will in the somewhat organized chaos of the SHU, where several new residents were still being settled. Henry had clapped him on the shoulder, declaring that Will was now ‘it,’ and Big Foot had manhandled him into the elevator.
As if a degree in psychiatry were any match for the aloofness that Helen Magnus had spent two lifetimes perfecting.
Will didn’t pretend to understand the complicated relationship between Helen and Ashley. Things were, at best, tense between mother and daughter. More often than not, it felt as though a brutal battle of words was brewing between the two, fueled by Ashley’s frustration at constantly being reigned in and Helen’s frustration with her daughter’s recklessness. Things had only gotten worse after Ashley learned the truth about her father’s identity.
And yet even when they were furious with each other, they were fiercely protective of one another. On more occasions than he could count, Will had found himself pitying an abnormal that had dared to threaten one of the Magnus women. The reaction from the other generally tended towards the murderous end of the spectrum.
That was just one of the many puzzling aspects of Magnus’ reaction to Ashley’s death: she wasn’t furious, wasn’t storming through the Sanctuary preparing them all for a quest for the Cabal’s blood, as she had been when Ashley had first been kidnapped. Instead she was strangely calm. She was, it seemed, quietly accepting that her daughter was gone, after spending the past week shrouded in denial.
A quiet sob snapped Will out of his thoughts. Through the open door to Ashley’s room, he could see Magnus bent over something.
Will allowed himself one long, steadying breath and then stepped out of the shadows. He crossed the hall in a few long strides but paused before crossing the threshold. He hadn’t been inside this room while Ashley was alive, and entering now, absurdly, felt like an invasion of her privacy.
His gut clenched then, and Will realized Magnus wasn’t the only one still expecting Ashley to come racing down the hall at any moment.
If he missed the spunky blonde after knowing her for just a few months, how much more keenly must her mother feel the loss?
“Magnus?” Will called quietly. He wasn’t sure if he was asking permission to intrude, or asking if she was all right.
In the end, the question didn’t matter. There was no answer.
Now that he was closer, he could see that Magnus was hunched over a framed photo. A curtain of dark curls obscured his view of both the photo and his mentor’s face, but nothing could hide the slight tremors coursing through her as silent sobs racked her body.
Will had never felt more unsure of himself, of his place and of her expectations.
Magnus had made it clear many times in the last few days that she wanted everyone to leave her alone, and yet she hadn’t truly turned any of them away. Big Foot had been sent off with gentle reassurances and kind, sympathetic words. Henry had been gently rebuffed with soothing touches and almost maternal warmth.
Over the last few days, Will realized, he’d spent the most time with Magnus without being shooed off. He didn’t dare try to figure out why. Helen Magnus was the most complex person he’d ever met; he could spend the rest of his life trying and still never understand her.
“I was beginning to think you would lurk out there all day,” she said hoarsely. Her voice, lacking its usual dry humour, was tight and choked with tears.
Will blinked in surprise. “How long have you known I was out there?”
“I’m grieving, Will, not blind.”
“Right.”
He stepped into the room - there was no more Ashley to yell ‘Boundaries, dude!’ and toss him out - and let his eyes roam over its sparse contents.
The contrast with the rest of the Sanctuary was striking. Ashley’s room was utilitarian, lacking the rich colours and priceless antiques that dotted the rest of the complex. Clearly, Ashley hadn’t inherited her mother’s taste for the finer things in life.
The empty boxes piled near the closet indicated that Magnus hadn’t even begun the painful task of packing up her daughter’s things. But if it weren’t for that visual cue, Will would have assumed Magnus had made tremendous progress today. Every surface was clear, making it appear as though it had been years and not weeks since someone had last inhabited the room.
At a loss for words, Will said the first thing that came to mind. “She wasn’t big on interior design, huh?”
Even as he kicked himself for saying something so monumentally stupid and insensitive, Magnus looked up and flashed him a sad smile.
“Ashley had little patience for anything that took her away from tracking abnormals.”
“She loved the work,” Will agreed quietly.
“And it got her killed,” Magnus murmured. Her eyes dropped to the framed photo still clenched in her hand.
Knowing it would be futile to argue, Will said nothing. Instead, he closed the distance between them and came to stand at her shoulder. Without waiting for permission, he studied the image that had captured her attention.
A much younger Ashley grinned up at him from her mother’s arms. The toddler’s hands were out-stretched, proudly displaying a long, thin something for the camera. She was covered from head to toe in mud and her eyes danced with the excitement borne of a great adventure.
Undeterred by the muck liberally coating the little girl, Magnus held her close. Her eyes danced with pride, but Will could detect traces of awe as well. He’d seen a similar look in Magnus’ eyes many times. Now he wondered if Ashley had ever truly understood how much of a miracle she was to her mother.
“She was always chasing after creatures,” Magnus said quietly. The sad smile reappeared as another memory unfolded. “Her first steps were in pursuit of a pixie I was treating.”
Will chuckled quietly. “What did she catch here? A baby sewer monster? A newborn Nessie?”
“A run of the mill garden snake, actually.” Magnus smiled fondly at the memory. “It was the first creature she caught all on her own - she forbid Henry from helping… She was so proud that day.”
“It looks like you were too.”
“I was,” she agreed. “Perhaps too proud. I don’t know that Ashley ever realized she had a choice to live a life different from mine.
Self-loathing was slowly creeping into Magnus’ voice, anger replacing the sorrow she’d wrapped around herself for the last few days.
Will took a chance and laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. When she didn’t shrug him off, he squeezed gently, trying to convey his support through the simple gesture.
“Ashley never did anything she didn’t want to,” Will reminded quietly. “You didn’t force her into this life.”
“Didn’t I?” Magnus retorted. “I raised her in a gigantic laboratory, not a home! I paraded abnormal after abnormal past her, feeding her fascination with them.”
She shrugged him off then and stalked angrily across the room, continuing to rant while she paced.
“I brought her into my world before she was old enough to decide whether she wanted any part of it. I made it her whole life!
“Other little girls took ballet classes for the fun of it; Ashley took karate so she could learn to defend herself. While other parents were warning their children not to talk to strangers, I was encouraging her to befriend creatures that would give most people nightmares! When other girls her age were chasing boys, I had Ashley out chasing monsters!”
If she hadn’t needed to breathe, Magnus probably could have continued for hours, expounding on her failures as a parent. But she did need to breathe, and in the heartbeat of silence that followed her shaky inhalation, Will spoke again.
“Not monsters, Magnus,” he corrected gently. “Abnormals, misunderstood creatures that need protecting, but not monsters.”
“I’ll thank you not to be correcting my vocabulary, Will,” she snapped.
“You don’t deal with monsters,” he insisted. “I’ve seen a lot since you brought me into your world, but so far the only monsters I’ve come across are the ones responsible for what happened to Ashley.”
He met her gaze and took a single step towards her. “And those monsters would have come after her whether or not she was involved in your work.”
Magnus glared, but the effect was ruined by the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “You can’t know that.”
“You can’t know that they would have left her alone if things had been different,” he fired back.
Magnus froze. They glared at each other across the short distance for several heartbeats. Will tried to convince her of the truth through the weight of his gaze, but couldn’t say if it was working. Magnus continued to glower, chest heaving with ragged breaths that filled the silence.
He had no idea what had brought on this sudden burst of anger, but he welcomed it. This was the most life he’d seen in her since the memorial service three days ago.
“A mother’s job is to protect her child and I failed!” Magnus exploded. Her face twisted with a rage reflected in the venom in her voice. “It should have been me dying to protect Ashley, not her dying to protect me!”
“It wasn’t your fault…”
“My daughter is dead!” she bellowed. Grief, anger, outrage, shame and guilt warred for dominance in the blunt declaration, blending to create a cacophony of heartbreak.
Ignoring the look that promised he would regret continuing the conversation, Will marched right up to Magnus and gripped her by the shoulders. When they were eye to eye with only a breath between them, Will repeated the words he needed her to understand.
“Ashley is dead because of what the Cabal did to her and the others like her,” he said quietly but firmly. “It’s not your fault, Magnus.”
“I couldn’t save her.” Magnus’ voice was barely a whisper, but it carried a wealth of pain. “She was Ashley again and she was right there, close enough to touch, but I couldn’t save her.”
Will forced himself to stay focused on this moment, on this conversation, shoving aside the memory of his mother’s death even as Magnus’ words summoned it forth.
Right there, close enough to touch, but I couldn’t save her…
His own voice was choked with emotion as he murmured, “I know. I know.”
A sob ripped from Magnus’ chest and she lost the fight to keep her tears at bay.
Before Will could decide what to do next, she was leaning into him, searching for something solid to keep her grounded as she finally surrendered to her grief. His hands slid from her shoulders and he wound his arms around her, offering the only comfort he could.
It didn’t take long for Magnus’ tears to soak through the thin cotton of his shirt, scorching his skin with the heartache they conveyed, but Will didn’t care. For the first time in days, he felt useful.
With Magnus too distracted and desperate for a miracle to act as taskmaster lately, he’d tried to step into her shoes, giving Big Foot and Henry assignments to keep them busy. But he’d just been making it up as he went along and they’d all known it. He was out of his depth in the leadership role.
With this, helping someone work their way through grief and come to grips with their emotions, Will was in his element.
He’d give anything to be doing his job under different circumstances. Give anything to bring Ashley back to life, and make Henry smile again, and reignite the spark in Big Foot’s eyes, and drag Magnus out of the sea of pain she was adrift in, but all those things were beyond the scope of his abilities.
All he could do was listen when they were ready to talk, offer empathy and compassion when they were ready to receive it, and voice reason and logic when they were ready to hear it.
Fortunately, Magnus - the one he had been most worried about - had finally reached the point where she was ready for his help. Surely the others would follow in the coming days, once their own worry for her had been assuaged somewhat.
“Ashley chose this life, Magnus,” he murmured into her hair. “She may have been born into it, but she wouldn’t have stayed if she didn’t want to.”
The reassurance dragged another sob from Magnus, so Will did the only thing he could. He tightened his hold on her trembling body and resolved to soothe her for as long as she’d let him.
After all, Magnus had comforted him after he’d lost his mother. It was only right that he repay that kindness and compassion now that she’d lost her daughter.